


Burn

by ScribblingSeymour



Category: Fate/Zero
Genre: Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Comfort/Angst, Drama, F/M, Inspired by Bridgerton (TV), Love Confessions, One Shot, Post-Fate/Zero, Snow, Tragedy, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribblingSeymour/pseuds/ScribblingSeymour
Summary: Faced with the risk of being oceans apart, Irisviel puts all efforts in helping Kiritsugu realise that, love is a choice, one that is never easy - or too late - to make.
Relationships: Emiya Kiritsugu & Irisviel von Einzbern, Emiya Kiritsugu/Irisviel von Einzbern
Kudos: 2





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> To my significant other, the Kiri to my Iri, happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> Dear gentle readers, you may want to listen to Abigail Barlow and Emily Bear's "Burn For You" while reading this. *wink wonk*  
> Now, enjoy the ride!

She felt something.

As if the whole world, and even time itself, stopped when there were only two of them in a room together. Her, stunningly curious and absolutely gentle, ever so delicate like a pure snowflake floating in the wintry air; and him, as stoic as he was ruthless, so patiently guiding such a clueless being as her into the world.

With every moment well spent with him, Irisviel could feel a wave of unknown feelings slowly bubbling up inside until eventually, she let them burst. Assuredly, fervently, and loudly.

His hand landed on hers, and a smile she had never seen before graced his face, and Irisviel noticed with relief that his happiness reached his eyes. Then her relief turned into something a little more precious – joy. Ironic how Kiritsugu was the one to teach her about life, and yet there was no single trace of liveliness in his eyes.

Because she had been the one to chase the shadows from them. She wanted to banish them forever, she realised.

If only he would let her.  
But then something happened – or maybe it had been happening all along, and she had just been trying too hard not to notice it. Her eyes changed; they almost glowed.   
And suddenly, nothing else mattered as much as his voice, previously so distant and cold, now so sultry and warm, when he said the four words Irisviel did not know she was yearning to hear, when they looked at each other with piercing, unwavering eyes. Oh, how she held her breath as their noses drew nearer each second, so very carefully and endearingly.

 _I love you, too_.

* * *

She felt something.

There were signs.  
There were times when they would cross each other in the corridor without exchanging a single word, despite her longing gaze tracing his shadow on the marble floor as Kiritsugu disappeared from sight.  
There were days when Irisviel would wait for his arrival in the drawing room for hours, constantly reassuring herself that he should be here any minute, if not to tutor her, then just simply be there, with her. But of course, she would wait until she fell asleep on the duvet, only to wake up having her petite frame _somehow_ wrapped by a blanket.

The signs did not simply occur to our homunculus in a fleeting second. They had been haunting her ever since the day Old Acht announced a marriage between her and Kiritsugu, something that she certainly did not see coming, but it brought an ethereal delight to her heart nonetheless. Immersed in her own joyful world as she may be, Irisviel was never too obstinate to deny that her husband-to-be was not feeling the same as a groom should be feeling.

The wedding day was coming closer, yet the nervosity inside her surged higher than ever, overtaking her usual poised demeanor that was the easy regality many others might have attempted and failed to achieve, especially after Irisviel was informed of her fiancé’s intention to leave the Einzbern Castle as soon as the ceremony finished.

A change of mind?  
Or, a change of heart?

She took the news with utmost composure despite the rising lump in her throat, and left Grandfather’s room to go straight to Kiritsugu’s.

The sturdy wooden door soon creaked open. His back was turning to her, and his head dropping to the suitcase opened on the floor, with a variety of strange equipment Irisviel could not quite put her finger on, though they did seem mysterious in a way.

“Do you need a hand?” She spoke up, leaning on the door frame. Her voice was ever so soft, as if she feared breaking this silence dawning in the room.

“Nothing I can’t do by myself.” He croaked hoarsely, not once turning to look at her.

Not that Irisviel did not get used to his distance, but it was the twinge of anguish she spotted between his words what put her in unease. One step, then two… her heels clicked on the floor as she finally made the decision to come in, to offer her assistance and— her company too, should he need some before leaving.

Then gently, her dainty fingers landed on his shoulder. “I heard the news.” The smallest smile bloomed on her troubled features. “You do not have to go, you know…”

The very motion jolted his lifeless eyes wide open, and the moment he turned around, he saw that her face was very close to his – close, and startlingly honest, while Irisviel momentarily searched his face, but this time she could not read his emotions the way she usually could – the way only _she_ could.

“ **I said I don’t need help!** ”

His voice startled her just like her touch previously did him, and perhaps even startled himself, given the guilt sliding uncomfortably down his throat, and the flicker of remorse crossed his eyes, which was quickly replaced with steely determination.

Almost immediately, her hands fell off his shoulder, and she lurched away. The look of pain and rejection in her eyes was almost impossible to bear. He was upset – that much was clear. But she had no idea what he would say. No idea how he would react. And she had the strangest feeling that Kiritsugu did not know, either.

Irisviel had never looked so forlorn. Her mouth was quivering slightly, as if she wasn't quite sure if she had anything to say, and her long lashes seemed to be fluttering a bit more than normal. 

When she finally opened her mouth to speak, it looked as if the words were ripped from her very soul.

“Of course.”

Her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She gave the barest of nods, and quietly closed the door behind her. A disbelieving breath followed, the kind that came from the back of one's throat, right before it closed up in shock.

Irisviel felt tremors spread through her body, a strange shaking over which she had no control. And then she realised she was crying. Without a sound, without even a caught breath, she was crying.

* * *

She felt something.

Heartache, Irisviel eventually learned, never really went away; it simply dulled. The sharp, stabbing pain that one felt with each breath eventually gave way to a blunter, lower ache – the kind that one could almost, but never quite, ignore.

Sinking on the windowsill with a view of the eternally snow-filled yard and a book in one hand, the homunculus closed her eyes for a moment. Just a moment, to try to relieve the headache that had been plaguing her for days. It was difficult at first, but she had come to accept the fact that she would never see Kiritsugu again after tomorrow. After all, they had not seen each other for nearly a month now, it should not matter if this _state_ would last for another month, which might as well roll into a year and even more, should it?

_Should it?_

Irisviel was not sure how long she had been sitting there, barely breathing, the leather-covered book laying in her palm. Then finally, a breeze washed over her, or perhaps the light changed, or the house creaked – but something did break her out of this reverie, and she jumped to her feet.

Now that she knew what it meant to love someone, she was determined to not let it slip off her fingers right in front of her eyes when there was something she could do.

Apart from the sound of her heels clicking, the entire castle seemed preternaturally quiet as Irisviel strode down the empty hall while keeping an eye to whoever might possibly arrive at this moment. Well, she would not wish to be caught invading Jubstacheit’s private study, after all.

Having learnt that her Grandfather wanted to discuss with Kiritsugu about some particular things regarding his leaving, which would certainly take place in the drawing room and last for at least half an hour, Irisviel entered the study with positive confidence, and one question in her mind. What exactly was she looking for? Perhaps she would know it when she found it.

In that elegantly furnished study sat an extravagant wooden desk, with several rows of bookshelves reaching the ceiling in the back. Unsure where to start, Irisviel walked up to the desk, cautiously glancing through every object on it: a quill, an intricate pot of ink, and several pieces of paper. Then she kept searching, with her anxiety rising each movement, and she did not truly stop flipping through every file until her crimson eyes fell on a bundle of papers, tied together by a white-and-gold ribbon – the ancestral colors of Einzberns – in the bottom drawer of the desk.

No sign on the envelops actually showed this was what she came looking for, but her instincts. And instinctively, Irisviel closed her eyes and exhaled, summoning the courage she knew she would need to disentangle the strings and open up what was written on these papers.

 _Emiya Kiritsugu_ , said the title of the first page.  
 _Alimango Island_ , said the second one.  
 _Airbus A300_ , said the fifth.  
And eventually, she finished all of them.

Without her even knowing, the sheets of paper freely slipped from Irisviel’s frail fingers and floated slowly to the floor. A harsh sob escaped her throat, and she pressed her palm to her mouth, as if that might possibly stem the tide of emotion that was churning within her.

A wave of clarity hit her. So that was it. _That_ was why.

Kiritsugu was desperate to leave, because he could not bear the way she had been with him, or the way she would be with him. Irisviel had reduced him to the helpless fool of his childhood. She had rendered him tormented, brought back that awful, choking feeling, the horror of not being able to save those he held dear. She, the very embodiment of sacrifice herself.

In a fleeting moment, determination gleamed in her ruby eyes. She knew what she had to do.

* * *

She felt something.

In the end, it was the little details of the wedding that Irisviel remembered.

No tears were shed during the ceremony as she initially thought should be – experience from all the books and movies she was exposed to.

She noticed Jubstacheit’s face stiffened as she reached the altar, and his voice was oddly hoarse when he spoke up.

And, she remembered the look of concentration on Kiritsugu’s face as he repeated his vows. Each syllable was uttered slowly and carefully. Her heart found no comfort in this nonetheless; a man who spoke his vows with such intensity might possibly be the one who viewed marriage as a mere contract, or an unspeakable burden.

_Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder._

* * *

She felt something.

Snow rested upon the frozen fountain as if it were a feather cushion, soft and warm, covered the rich, deep wood in perfect white. Breath pale against the numbing air, she blinked thoughtfully as the frost patiently kissed her face, captivated by the soft, dusty illusions of light that sat heavy on her eyelashes. She adored the snow, more so when it was falling. Admittedly, Irisviel had not stepped outside the Castle ever since the incident that had knocked her out in the snow, and it felt strange, now more than ever, to have the wedding banquet out here, in the courtyard. Under that façade of gaiety, however, rose the dread of eventually parting ways with her husband when this was all over. 

Her gaze scanned through the yard where only a certain number of people dressed in their finest stood exchanging tedious conversations with little enthusiasm, and she chuckled softly at the sight. Perhaps they were no more excited about this than the groom himself, the one man that had distanced himself from her a mile or two away. And as if that was hardly enough to pain her, he had made a decision, that almost killed every shred of hope left, to avoid her eyes as well.

But he could not avoid her forever. They had previously agreed to one dance, a waltz, to please the unwilling guests who clearly did not seem they wished to be here even in the slightest.

Just then, the orchestra, hiding from the snow on the porch, started playing their instruments though hesitantly at first, and slowly struck the first notes of a waltz. From her spot, Irisviel could feel a glance shot towards her, from none other than her husband.

 _It’s time_. She nodded demurely before placing the glass of wine on the table. Time for one last dance, one last time together before they would be oceans and years apart. Questionable, but inevitable.

An accomplished dancer as she was, Irisviel could barely find the strength to quell this thrilling sensation and calm her frantically beating heart within its bone cage when their hands touched.

Did he feel that too? That _spark_?

Then, came a gust of strong wind.

* * *

She felt something.

In that unexpected swirling storm of screaming silver, Irisviel felt something.

Refreshed. Free. And perhaps, joy.

There was something about the grand snow-filled yard that invited her playful feet, that said each new step would be rewarded with a sense of childish delight in being absorbed to the ground. The snow became so thick that the trees appeared as the confetti, as if they were the flakes that danced. Irisviel, happier than she had ever been in the last few weeks, let the cold invade her skin, let the frost caress her elegant features, let carefree chuckles escape her rosy lips.

Any sane person would have certainly rushed into the castle for warmth, security, and the sake of their own lives at the arrival of a blizzard. Well, we now know two who were far from sane at that spectacular moment.

_Iri!_

Despite the sting of driven snow on her face, the ferocity of the wind and how the light almost blinded her, Irisviel quickly caught a voice too familiar from behind, in the distance, crying out her name. Another _Iri_ soon followed, and she spun around at once, without even seeing it, she could feel the warmth of Kiritsugu’s large, callous hand spreading to hers. In that blizzard, he had somehow managed to find her, to capture her hand in his, ready to rescue her in the snow like he once did, ready to provide a sense of security he always did.

To his surprise, the homunculus only grinned up at him – radiantly, one may say – before she retreated her hand. No one could take this moment from her. No one.

“Iri.” Realising it would be impossible pull her inside, not when she seemed clearly in higher spirits than he had seen in the longest time, the man in black stared at her with such intensity, “I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Irisviel beamed brightly, slender arms extending to the sides. Even with the wind howling, her hearty chuckle still remained a sound that was like music to his ear, “Even a magus cannot control the weather!”

He made one step toward her, the smallest hint of smile sparked in the corner of his eye, “I know this is not what you have envisioned for today…”

“Certainly not.”

“… For that, I—”

“It is better.” Irisviel cut off. The twinge of delight on her porcelain visage was suddenly replaced by an air of seriousness. An expression she would only wear when she wished to discuss a grave matter.

Even in the array of frozen blooms falling from dark clouds above, it was hard to not notice how the end of his brow was quirked in curiosity. _Carry on_ , it said. And she did.

“I know why you think you have to leave.” An audible inhale followed, “I found the reports Grandfather have on you yesterday, and I read them.”

Kiritsugu turned away from her, but not before she saw the utter torment in his eyes. Not before she heard his breath catch, or the shaky exhale he finally expelled in an attempt to hold himself together, along with a hand flying to cover his face. No, no. Not this, not now, not with her. He could not be talking about that here, or anywhere, or any time. He could not deal with it.

“Just because…” Irisviel said carefully, and swallowed convulsively, praying that she was doing the right thing, “Just because something is not perfect… does not make it any less worthy of love.”

She was a mere doll created to serve others’ purpose, a mere living being that was exposed so little to the brutal reality of the outside world as well as the beauty it provided, she became a fool in their eyes.

She was not perfect. Neither of them was.

“Iri—”

His voice was weary, and filled with agonized emotion that would normally be enough to silence her. The woman had sensed it, and normally she would simply catch her lower lip between her teeth and chew nervously to listen to him. But not this time. It was _her_ turn to speak. There was obviously something big and difficult squeezing at her heart that would haunt her mind forever if it could not be said. So even if it took her all day to find the right words to say it, he would _have to_ wait.

It was no longer merely about someone’s departure, or someone’s consent. This, was about a life. Her life. Her happiness. She must finally take charge instead of letting anybody else set it adrift.

“What happened to you on that island, and with that plane… made you believe otherwise. They made you believe that you are not worthy to be loved because those who did love you ended up a sacrifice for your deeds, but you were wrong.” Her eyes were steady, and her tone steely, as ever unexpected from such a fragile snow-like being, “Should you need any proof of the matter then… then look just _here_!”

Another chuckle slipped free from her lips, only this time she was laughing at her own obstinacy. All this time, she had been too concerned with how she could bring enough love into his life to banish the bad memories forever, that she never once asked why she should do that. Perhaps it was because the answer had always been right there. Simple, silent, but fierce.

“Oh, how I am tired of pretending!”

A strange little smile moved across Irisviel’s face without her even realising it, as if her body had realised before her mind that she knew exactly what to say. A reassuring smile that, in retrospect, she believed was meant for both of them.

“And I cannot continue acting as if I— as if I do not love you. Because I do.

I love all of you. Even the parts that you believe are too dark, and too shameful.

Every scar.  
Every flaw.  
Every imperfection. _I love you_.”

The strangest lump formed in Kiritsugu’s throat – it was nothing like his conflicts, nothing like his anguish. It was, he admitted, nothing but vulnerability.

Irisviel took that as a sign for her to continue.

“You may think you are too damaged, too broken to ever allow yourself to be happy, but you can choose differently, Kiritsugu! You can _choose_ to love me as much as I love you.”

Flakes pelted against frozen cheeks, clung to her long eyelashes and silvery hair. Numbs exposed skin, pain in fingertips and toes. At this point, the homunculus was choking out, her eyes tingling with unshed tears, but her heart bursting with every bit of affection she held for him. One as pure as snow itself.

She could not stop thinking about him. From the mornings he would ease, to the evenings he would quiet, to the _dreams_ he would inhabit.

Her thoughts of him never ended.

“That should not be up to anyone else. That _cannot_ be up to anyone else.” Resolve returned to her voice, accompanied by a touch of feminine tenderness, “It can only be up to you.”

Kiritsugu stood very still for several minutes, the only sound the low whoosh of his breath as he fought to control his emotions. Finally, just when Irisviel was beginning to fear she had lost him, he looked up at her with shattered eyes. He looked at her, and Irisviel was nearly undone by the sheer emotion burning on his face.

He was scared to death. And thrilled to the marrow. And a hundred other emotions he never let himself feel before she came along.

“I do not want to be alone. I know that now. But what I do not know,” His jaw was trembling, and a muscle worked frantically in his cheek. There was incredible tension in his neck, as if every ounce of his energy was devoted to the task of delivering this speech. Irisviel wanted to hold him, to comfort the little boy inside. She wanted to smooth his brow, and squeeze his hand. She wanted to do a thousand things, but instead, she just held silent, encouraging him with her eyes to continue, “is how to be the man you need me to be… the man you truly deserve. I-I do not know how to do this…”

“Yes. Yes, you do.”

“Iri—”

“I know you do.”

It took her mere seconds to reply, to stare right back into those dark eyes that were screaming an unspoken plea, to walk up to him and abridge the distance between them, both physically and spiritually. She moved her hands to his cheeks and turned his face to hers, forcing him to meet her determined gaze. 

“You stay. You stay, and we get through this, together. If you do this… if _we_ do this, then—”

 _Then nothing else will matter._  
Irisviel never finished the sentence, yet she knew he sensed it too, for Kiritsugu’s eyes started to shine with an odd, new, almost hopeful light.

And that was when she felt something.   
She felt a rush of something utterly foreign fill her lungs. It was air, she realised dumbly. Irisviel had been holding her breath. She was even aware that she had been holding it.  
And something else filled her as well. Something hot and stirring, something triumphant and wonderful. It was emotion, pure and undiluted, a bizarre mix of relief and joy and desire.

That was when she was finally certain that everything was going to be all right.

After the snow storm, after the silence, and the misunderstandings – both Irisviel and Kiritsugu were faced with the unavoidable, inalienable truth – they were truly, madly and deeply in love with each other, who in the end made a very conscious choice to continue loving each other.

If one found oneself in such an incredible position, then one should declare it. Assuredly, fervently, and loudly.

And Irisviel figured, at last, what she had been feeling.

It was a flame, starting out as embers igniting the dark, those tiny firefly-lights that flickered until they became something brighter, and livelier. A flame that consumed her whole, and left her all but indescribable happiness.

She _burned_ … for him.

And hopefully, he burned for her, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, thank you so much for reading my first ever work posted on AO3!
> 
> As you can tell, I am currently in the Bridgerton phase (it's sooooo goooood oh my god!!). The moment I finished episode 8, an idea sparked in my head, so you can most definitely spot a lot of lines from that very episode xD  
> Kiri x Iri has always been my top OTP since 2017, and I'm very lucky to have found someone who shares with me the same love for these two precious babes. Thus this work is born, dedicated to my OTP, who clearly burn for each other, and deserve the whole world <3


End file.
